I had no idea what to feel.
I didn't know if I should be embarrassed that I was getting fucked by a guy—
Or the fact that he was moaning my name like it hurt to hold it in...I made a little joke about him not being able to pick me up but he did and now we're here.
Or maybe I should've focused on the pain, because he was thrusting viciously—like he was chasing something inside me that didn't want to be found. Like I'd run if he let me go.. like I didn't eventually start begging for this.
My fingers clawed uselessly at the furs beneath us, legs trembling around his waist.
He wasn't even fully shifted but I could feel the wolf in him—raw, wild, barely restrained.... and in me.
He gripped my hips like he owned them.
No, not gripped.
Clawed.
Zayden's voice rasped against my neck, hot and low and ruined. Like he was struggling not to change form completely.
"Ezra—fuck!—you shouldn't feel this good—"
His teeth grazed my skin, and I flinched.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I wanted him to bite me. And I didn't know what that made me.
The mark on my arm was glowing—glowing—like it had come alive. I could feel it in every nerve, burning with the rhythm of his thrusts. Like it was syncing with his body. Like this was what it had wanted all along.....to sync with him. For a moment we forgot all our problems. We forgot the reason why I'm here to begin with and just enjoyed our time together.
"You're burning up," he growled, biting down on the side of my throat—not deep enough to break skin, but deep enough to warn me.
"You're in heat," I gasped, "not possessed."
He let out a breathless, broken laugh. "You don't know the difference."
Another thrust. Deep. Brutal.
I cried out his name and each time, he had a smirk on his face...like he loved it. My hand slammed against his chest.
"Then teach me—" I snapped, "—instead of trying to break me in half—"
Zayden pulled out—just long enough to flip me over, drag me back down by the waist, and press his palm between my shoulder blades until my chest met the sheets.
"Then listen."
His voice was thick. Tired. Like it hurt to speak.
"You think this is about the heat," he hissed into my ear, grinding against me. "You think I want this because my body's begging for it. But it's you, Ezra. You woke it up."
I couldn't answer. I could barely breathe.
He slid back into me like he was meant to be there.
Like he was there all along.
And when his hips snapped forward again, something inside me gave—not pain, not exactly, but a sound I didn't recognize. It didn't feel like mine.
Zayden froze.
"…You made that noise again," he whispered, hoarse.
"Shut up," I said, red-faced. "Just keep going, your majesty"
"Fuck! Say it!!." he growled under his breath.
"No."
"Ezra—say it." He whispered close enough to send chills down my spine.
"I like it," I breathed. "I like you."
The growl that ripped out of him wasn't human.
And this time, when he moved—it wasn't vicious.
It was worship.
Like he hated that he needed me this much.
Like his body already knew mine too well.
Like something ancient had chosen me, long before either of us had a say. Like I was his.